The Piano
by TheEvilMelonLord
Summary: Lin's piano playing sparks memories that Tenzin would rather forget. Linzin-ish, and a oneshot.


**This is of course under the assumption that they have pianos. I know that the music is usually a very different style but I thought that if they have Satomobiles they probably have pianos of piano-like instruments. This isn't technically Linzin since it happens after they broke up, and it takes place in 167ASC, or three years before Korra came to Republic City. Please advise me on how I wrote the story especially, since I really love constructive feedback.**

Tenzin knew as soon as he saw the Beifong mansion from his view in the air that he was intruding. His shoes were wooden-soled so that no one could instantly recognise him with seismic sense.

It had been years; decades even, since he had been to this place, but he knew every part of it from countless childhood visits. Toph didn't like flashing around the Beifong wealth but had built this place in the country after Lin one day in training had reduced a neighbour's house to dust. Tenzin could remember fantasizing about having his children grow up here.

He remembered it, though part of him wished he didn't because the feeling of intrusion was even worse now. There was a time when he was more welcome here than anyone else in the world. Where nothing, to him, was trespassing on Lin's privacy because their friendship was so strong that they knew everything about each other. And what they didn't know, they soon found out.

Tenzin landed lightly on the dewy grass. With the wind no longer rushing in his ears and the room he had come looking for only a few metres away, he could hear a melody. The Melody.

Creeping closer, he felt his heart both leap and sink with every bar. She still played. She still played, and she still remembered.

Tenzin had always been a dreadful pianist even when Lin patiently tried to teach him. In the end he'd throw up his hands, say 'I'm done with feeling rubbish' and then settle back to listen to her play.

And oh, how she played.

This tune was one of her own compositions. It had been played at first Aang and then Sokka's funeral by her. Tenzin had remembered his heart breaking as Pema stroked his hand. First for the death of his father, but then, when he thought his grief could not get greater, at the sight of her with tears sliding down her cheeks, tangling in her hair, dripping down onto the instrument which she played, swaying as the music filled the air. Tenzin, in that moment, had pulled his hand away from Pema. In a last gesture to Lin, a movement in which he tried to show that he had not forgotten that he had friends and a family surrounding him, while she had none. And at Sokka's funeral it was the same, only this time worse since her shoulders shook from agony when she played and some of the notes wavered.

He had supposed that she might have given up after that, after playing one last time for her last friend and almost-father. It seemed she had not. And the music that the piano made, as her fingers lightly caressed it and then played harder as the song swelled into a crescendo of sadness, was as beautiful as he had found her.

Lin smiled as her bare foot detected Tenzin leaning against the wall, seemingly not caring whether she saw him or not. His head was swaying back and forth. She played two final chords, glad that he had come back. Maybe she could try teaching him again; that was always a laugh.

She remembered the gesture he had shown her at his father's funeral, the acknowledgement at his betrayal. She remembered everything. This, this act they put on that nothing had ever transpired between them and that they were purely professional couldn't last forever. Someday, they'd rekindle their friendship. Just not today.

Lin told herself to get up, to bend her armour on and leave for another day at work where she pushed herself past her limit. Her body didn't obey. Instead, her fingers experimentally played a few new notes. A question. Outside, Tenzin nodded very slowly. She had noticed him, but she didn't care. Just for that moment, they could pretend that they were still the strongest of friends.

Lin began playing again.


End file.
